


Card Tricks

by decypress



Series: Crowns and Clowns [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decypress/pseuds/decypress
Summary: This one is by TJ Cool Shades. Thank you TJ





	Card Tricks

“And what did you say your name was again?” Daria asked, pulling out a quill and a disgusting mud stained notebook from her bag. She shook bits of detritus off of it before opening it up.

“Muggs.” Said the dwarf. He raised an eyebrow at Rhodith, who was attempting to jump up onto a large beer barrel and was now preparing to do a run up. “The documents that bastard stole are vitally important, I can’t return home without them. I need them back as soon as possible, understand.”

The barrel topped over with the weight of the Witcher clinging on, starting to roll away down into the street, yet she managed to scrape up a smidge of dignity by grabbing it and yanking it back, perching on the now overturned side. She brushed a bright stand of hair out her face and coughed. “Right, it seems easy enough. But we won’t do it without pay.” She clicked a finger.

Someone nearby spat in their direction, and Muggs pulled a disgusted face. “Ugh, of course. Since the dawn of time, there’s not been a Witcher who’d take a job for free.”

“Yeah well, we need coin for food.”

Daria scoffed. “And the odd ‘lady of the night’ for her royal shortness here.”

“Fuck off!” Rhodith threw a pebble at her companion. “You spent our last contract reward on olives.”

“Anyway,” Daria continued, kicking the barrel so Rhodith wobbled. “we’ll need more details of the attack. We can discuss pay later.”

Muggs scratched his beard, squinting at the two. Their clothes were blood stained, and the twin glowing swords tied to the hip of the tallest woman definitely hinted towards their deadly prowess. Still he had to admit, they didn’t exactly seem like Kaer Seren’s finest Witchers.

He sighed loud. “Aye, I suppose that’s fair. I’ve not much, but there’s a scattering of coin in the bottom of me shoes. Get me my papers back and it’s yours.”

The two women looked at each other for a moment. “Deal, as long as you wash it first.” Daria nodded. “So what happened?”

“Well there ain’t much to tell. The prick jumped me, and though I managed to smash a bottle over his head, he wrestled the documents off me and pissed off in that direction.” The dwarf spat, miming his bottle swing and then pointing across the stone bridge that lead away from the city. “He won’t have got far, it weren’t that long ago.”

Rhodith got up, kicking the barrel into Daria’s knees as she did. “Right well, we’ll get going then. Don’t stray too far Muggs. You wouldn’t want to be… mugged… again.” A grin steadily crept up her face with the unintentional pun. She wiggled her eyebrows at Daria, who pointedly ignored her and set off across the bridge.

*

The scene of the fight was easy to find, smashed glass was scattered halfway across the bridge and was still dripping with spilled wine. A perfect clue, and the two Witchers followed simply the scent of blood and alcohol until they reached a small village, just outside the city. Sunflowers dotted along the pathway and Daria stopped to admire them for a second while Rhodith jumped out the way of an annoyed hissing cat.

Their thief was nursing his cut head with a cold bottle of whiskey, sitting at a table outside a small inn and complaining to a nearby drunk.

Rhodith quickly marched up to him, Daria helpfully towering behind her.

“Oy. We have a complaint about you. A guy we met says you… _mugged_ him.” She nudged her partner. “And we’re going to take back what you stole.”

The thief placed his bottle on the ground, crossing his arms and puffing up his chest as he stood up. He wasn’t as tall as Daria, but his wide brimmed straw hat and baggy clothes made him look a fair bit larger. “Me? I didn’t rob no one. If you’re talking about those papers, I won then fair n’ square in a game of Gwent. Then that Dwarvish scumbag glassed me.” He exclaimed, pointing to the dried blood in his hair. “I barely escaped with me life.”

“Oh. Great.” Daria threw her arms up dramatically, rolling her eyes. Why did she think this was going to be an easy quest? “Well what do we do now?”

Rhodith scowled, muttering something under her breath before turning back to the man. She really could not be bothered with this today. “Right, well we have a contract with Muggs and we need those documents. There’s got to be something we can do, you probably don’t even need them.”

“You probably can’t even read.” Daria added.

“No way, sure I may not have a clue what the wordy squibbles mean, but I’ve seen the fancy seal on them. They’ve been signed by someone important, so they’ve gotta be worth a pretty penny. I’m planning on selling them to the next merchant who comes along. Sorry lassies, but I’m not giving them up.”

Daria was seconds away from reaching for her sword when Rhodith stopped her, placing a hand on her arm.

“Okay, how about this.” She paused, looking assuredly at her companion’s confused expression. “We’ll play you for it in a game of Gwent. If we win, you give us the documents. If you win, I’ll give you, uh…” She looked around for a moment. “I’ll give you… a collection of Witcher runes. They’ll sell for far more than a couple of papers you can’t even bloomin’ read.”

“You’re on!” The man said, shaking hands with the short woman while Daria grabbed their bags possessively, absolutely baffled by what had just happened. Rhodith grinned and turned to the brown haired Witcher, raising her eyebrows at her expectantly.

“Right, you’re up!”

It took more than a few moments for Daria to reply. “W- what do you mean I’m up, what are you talking about?”

Rhodith pointed to the man, who was currently retrieving his cards from his satchel. “Playing Gwent. Go on, win us the documents back.”

“What the hell Rhodith? I don’t know how to play Gwent?” She shook her head, and her companion’s expression dropped instantly.

“What do you mean? Everyone knows how to play Gwent.”

“When have you ever seen me play Gwent in my life? You play Gwent, you agreed to this.”

“I don’t know how to play Gwent, I hate Gwent.”

Daria stuttered, gesturing irately at her companion. “Then why did you say we were going to play?”

“I thought you knew how to play! You’re always talking about it!”

“Yeah, I’m always talking about how much I hate Gwent! You daft slut!”

Rhodith glanced back at the man for a second, and then turned to their bag. The bag full of the runes they spent the last 4 years collecting. “Ah.”

“Yes, _Ah_. What are we going to do?” She smacked Rhodith over the head, pointing with even more urgency to the man. He had now finished setting up and was looking over expectantly at them, too far away to hear their frantic conversation.

“I guess… we try to play?” She cautiously suggested, putting her hands up before Daria hit her again. “I mean, this guys a moron, _plus_ he might have a slight brain injury. I think we have a good shot!”

*

They lost. Abysmally.

Both Witchers looked on in total horror at their cards, while the man pumped his fist in the air and took a swig of his whiskey. In their defence, they didn’t know what half the cards even meant.

Daria at least had a vague idea of how Gwent was supposed to go, Rhodith at one point had attempted to play snap.

“I win, once again. Now pay up you sorry wenches.” Their opponent stood up proudly, while the two women still sat cross-legged, staring in utter dismay at the ground. They had lost, to an uneducated farmer with a head injury. It was beyond embarrassing to say the least.

“Come on, gimme those stone things or whatever you called them.” He made grabbing motions towards them, and Daria nudged Rhodith, face radiating nothing but fury.

The redhead Witcher glanced up at the man and pulled herself up reluctantly, sulking as she trudged over to their bags and pulled them open.

And then she stopped. Turning back, their eyes caught, and some unspoken thought passed between the two women.

It took Rhodith a while to rummage through their belongings, murmuring something confused along the lines of _‘Where are they, I could swear they were in here…’_ until the other man started to get annoyed.

He sighed, storming over. “Oh give it here, I’ll find it for you. Useless women, you can never-“

The words cut off with a smash as Rhodith launched the whiskey bottle down onto his head, glass and alcohol exploding in every direction, and Daria took the opportunity to dive over to the satchel, ripping out the papers and hurling the bag directly into his chest.

They didn’t even wait for him to fall, Rhodith snatching their bag from the air as it dropped from his hands and bolting as fast as she could out of the village, Daria already overtaking. They heard shouts and cut through a field of corn, taking a detour into a few fields before returning to the cobbled road.

It wasn’t until they made it fully across the bridge did they turn and check if they were being followed. Only a few people glared at them suspiciously, but that was about average. Once they were sure that no guards had been alerted, and no bar patrons had chased this far after them, did the two allow themselves a breather, and Rhodith immediately dropped to the ground with hysterics.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong!” Daria shouted, waving in exasperation as the shorter Witcher let out an uncontrolled hoot of laughter. The people crossing the river giving them a very wide berth.

“Its just- Oh my god, I can’t breath-” Tears were forming in her eyes. “We- Daria, we did the exact same thing as the other guy did! We lost and we immediately fucking glassed him! That poor bastard!” She practically screamed, falling onto her back.

For a moment Daria thought she was going to kick her, but then the whole mad situation caught up and Rhodith snorted, and she couldn’t really help but descend into laugher too.

“Oh god. How about-“ Daria tried to speak but Rhodith snorted again and she had to take a moment. “Why don’t we just not mention this to Muggs.”

“Sure thing.” She calmed down for a second, but started cackling again. “But if he does get suspicious, we’ll just do the same to him with another glass. That way we’ll have mugged Muggs with a mug!”

“And then, won’t he have a surprised expression on his ugly mug!” The taller Witcher said, and Rhodith stopped being able to breathe.

The other bridge users turned and decided they’d rather take the long way around.


End file.
